Mind Travels*

I mentioned in my previous post, that I had a lot of stolen moments to think, really think, while I was in Puerto Rico. I thought about my career path (grateful for a j-o-b, but I need to find a new gig – something more creative, and definitely more social). I thought about my thoughts on moving out of New York (still just a notion – but its growing more comfortable in my head; most importantly I’ve accepted that I’m fearful of taking the leap). Whenever I had a moment to myself, my thoughts took off on their own adventures, turning over new leafs, and discovering new possibilities that I hadn’t given myself the time or the energy to find.

My first night in Puerto Rico, I was exhausted. A party that I LOVE in New York was ending its run at its current location. Having so many fond memories there (including meeting Hustle), I had to party there one last time and say goodbye to the venue. Despite having a 6 am flight, I hatched a plan. I called the promoter (a friend of mine) and asked him if I could just bring my suitcase to the party. I figured I could leave the party around 3:30 ish, and take a taxi to the airport. Which would leave me time to check in and chill (read: sleep) at the gate until I could board the plane (and sleep some more). With an almost 4 hour flight, I figured I would get about a good 5 hours of sleep time. What my theory did not take into account was the exhaustion I started the night with and how 5 hours of sleep just wasn’t enough. I arrived in San Juan cranky from sleep deprivation. But its funny how feeling the sun shining down on me made me forget all about that sleep deprivation. Until later that night.

After a day of touring the island and shopping (leave it to me to find an outlet mall in Puerto Rico with a BCBG; lawwwwd have mercy), we immediately came back to the hotel to change clothes and go out to dinner in Old San Juan. With its cobblestone streets, tightly packed stone buildings, and fountains, I was immediately smitten. Especially when I saw a Starbucks. I figured that jolt of java would sustain me through the evening of dinner and club hopping. Wrong. My body wasn’t having it. After a rather craptastic dinner, I was in no mood to shake what my momma gave me – no matter what language I was instructed to do it in. (SIDEBAR: whoever came up with asian-latin fusion cuisine is the devil; I went all the way to beautiful Puerto Rico to eat chicken lo-mein) I ditched my sisters and their friends and decided to head back to the hotel. On my walk back to the taxi stand (I didn’t care how much it cost me at that point), I couldn’t help but admire the charm of Old San Juan. As tired as I felt, I was captivated by the blend of old and new. I dipped back into Starbucks to order another round and took a brief walk to explore my surroundings. Don’t worry, I used the street smarts my momma gave me (besides the booty) and stayed on main well lit streets, never venturing too far from my landmarks – the fountain, the taxi stand, and Starbucks.

During my brief walk, I had to sit and change my shoes. Stilettos and cobblestone streets are a recipe for twisted ankle disaster. Luckily, I stashed my flip flops in my clutch. While sitting there, I encountered an older couple. They were walking hand in hand at a snail’s pace indicative of their age. What struck me about the couple is that seemingly out of nowhere, he turned to her and kissed her. A brief but intense peck on the lips and she giggled like she was 15 which in turn made me giggle. They caught me watching them and I blushed and apologized. They waved off my apology and told me they were celebrating their 58th wedding anniversary. All I could say was “Wowwwwwww. Congratulations!!!”. Damn 58 years with the SAME PERSON (not philosophically speaking of course; most of us aren’t the same people from one year to another but you know what I mean)!!! As I tried to wrap my brain around the concept of that particular length of time (approximately 21,184 days give or take) and all that it encompasses, the older gentleman interrupted my thoughts.

“What is a pretty young lady like yourself doing out here by yourself?” (Thankfully their English was perfect)

“Adios mios! She’s not out here by herself. She’s waiting on her husband.” the wife stated as a matter-of-fact.

I looked up from my seat and blinked a few times. I didn’t know how to respond. My thoughts had already taken off on their own adventure.

*there's a possibility that there is a part 2 to this story. Maybe.